


Eyes That Haunt

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Steve and Bucky: Tales of Recovery [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Angry Steve Rogers, Best Friends, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Comics/Movie Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POW Bucky, Past Abuse, Past Brainwashing, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve can handle most of the changes in his best friend; the scars, the arm, the newly quiet demeanor. The thing that kills him is the eyes. Bucky's eyes made him want to simultaneously cuddle his friend in reassurance and hunt down all who had harmed him in brutal, fiery vengeance. </p><p>At times like these, Steve could not believe just how much he hated Hydra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes That Haunt

It was Bucky's eyes that killed him. Steve could handle the scars, the arm, even the new silent demeanor. But the change in Bucky's eyes made him want to simultaneously cuddle his friend in reassurance and hunt down all who had harmed him in brutal, fiery vengeance. 

It wasn't the first time Steve had felt that way in regards to Bucky but it hadn't been so pronounced before. Probably because the shift in his friend hadn't been as pronounced. 

Light, curiosity and the gentle warmth that had always been present in Bucky's gaze had been ripped out and replaced with fear, pain and desolation. His friend was haunted by so many hurts. Each of them screamed out through his sad, hollow stare. 

Steve knew his friend could never fully recover. Even in moments of peace, there was a shadow over Bucky's eyes. A touch of fear or sorrow. A hint of uncertainty. 

Bucky would watch as Steve's hand approached him, instinctively leery of its intent even though he knew Steve would never harm him. Uneasy eyes would seek out Steve in a small crowd, made up entirely of people he knew, for assurance that he was safe. A wary gaze would find Steve as Bucky's own hand reached for him, uncertain if the touch was welcomed.

Steve hated it. He hated _them_. 

Moments like these were the worst. Steve didn't know what had triggered it. 

Maybe something Bucky heard or read while Steve was out. There wasn't anything telling near Bucky where he sat on the sofa. Nothing that might have slipped from his grip when the memories took hold. The television was off, but that didn't mean anything. Steve had learned that they turn themselves off now, after a length of disuse. 

Maybe it was something that only existed in his own mind. A stray thought or memory, brought on innocently enough, could open the floodgates and drown Bucky's mind in the terrors he had experienced. 

In any case, Bucky was just sitting there with a thousand yard stare and fearful, haunted eyes. 

Steve didn't even know how long Bucky had been in his current state. He'd spent most of the evening with Tony, Bruce and Thor and come home to find Bucky already withdrawn into himself. There was no way to know which particular horror he was reliving, assuming it was a specific incident and not just a little pain montage. His mind liked to throw those at him sometimes. 

Worst of all, there was no kind way to snap him out of it. Gentle words and light touches wouldn't penetrate Bucky's memories when he got like this. Steve could either leave him to suffer through it and hope it wasn't one of the incidents that led to him hurting himself as he fought his way out or led to him regressing in his recovery. 

Or, he had to hurt Bucky himself. Sometimes harsh shouting would do it, but usually, he had to be struck. _Hard_.

Steve hated Hydra more than ever in these moments. 

He placed his hand on Bucky's face. Bucky turned his head slightly but his gaze was still turned inward. Still haunted. Steve pressed a gentle kiss against Bucky's hair and spoke softly beside his ear, hoping that he could hear him on some level. 

“I'm sorry, Buck. I can't just leave you like this. I never can. I'm sorry.”

He stepped back, raised a hand, and slapped Bucky across the face. Hard.

He _hated_ Hydra. _So much_.

Bucky gasped lightly and looked up at Steve. He looked around the room slowly, blinking languidly and breathing as if he's just run across the state. His eyes – so sad, so frightened; Steve wanted to punch the wall- found Steve again.

“Steve?” Bucky blinked again and studied Steve's face. He still hadn't moved any part of his body below the neck. That was usual during these incidents. Steve didn't know why. 

“Yeah, Bucky.” Steve felt his own eyes start to tear up at the sight of tears in Bucky's. He offered a small, sad smile. “I'm right here. We're safe, Buck. We're home.”

Bucky looked to the right and mouthed the word 'home' and nodded slightly, as though reminding himself what the word meant. He turned his gaze back to Steve and the fingers on his right hand twitched almost imperceptibly. 

Steve had been looking for the twitch. They'd done this enough times that he knew what it meant. Bucky wanted comfort. He wanted to reach out for it but his programming as The Asset was weighing on him after whatever he'd just experienced. He didn't remember how to ask for -or initiate- affection. He wouldn't for some time.

Steve slowly moved to sit on the coffee table in front of Bucky. Still moving slowly, making sure his movements were clear, he reached out and rubbed Bucky's upper arm. It was the safest place to start. Anyplace else would likely lead to Bucky flinching away and then apologizing. 

As if any of this was his fault. 

Steve _fucking hated_ Hydra.

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment while he stroked his friend's arm. Then, finally, Bucky closed his eyes and took a breath. 

Steve huffed in relief and pulled Bucky toward him. He wrapped his arms around his friend and felt a few tears escape his own eyes when Bucky came willingly, returning the embrace and breathing deeply against Steve's neck. 

“Its okay, Bucky. You're okay. I'm here. I've got you, Buck. We're safe.” Steve repeated these assurances and held onto Bucky as tightly as he could without harming him until he felt the body in his arms stop trembling and start breathing regularly. 

“I'm sorry.” Bucky murmured against Steve's skin. 

Steve really wanted to punch something. Or someone. Zola, Schmidt, Zemo, Pierce, Lukin, Rumlow...everyone he knew to blame was already dead. It didn't matter. He could take it out on a punching bag later. If he had the energy. 

Right now, Bucky was all that mattered. 

Bucky sighed. “I hate this.” he leaned back and rubbed his head. Steve knew from experience that his friend always had a terrible headache after these incidents. “I'm so-”

“Don't apologize.” Steve winced at his tone. It was too harsh, too demanding. It sounded like an order and he was supposed to try avoiding anything that sounded like an order when Bucky was in this state. The specialist Sam and Rhodey picked out for them had said so. It could trigger his conditioning; cause him to regress. 

Sure enough, he heard Bucky's mouth snap shut before he even finished the statement. 

Bucky closed his eyes. His jaw twitched slightly and his throat shifted, as though he were going to speak. Instead, he squeezed his eyes tighter and clenched his jaw, preventing himself from saying anything. Probably to apologize again. 

Steve hated Hydra _so **fucking** much_.

Bucky took a couple deep breaths then opened his eyes and forced his jaw to unclench. He looked wiped. Steve reached out and cupped his cheek. It was the closest thing to an apology he could offer for his slip up.

Bucky leaned into his hand and closed his eyes again, gently this time. Apology accepted. As always.

“Bucky?” The specialist had also told Steve to use Bucky's name as often as he could in these moments. That part, at least, Steve always got right. “How do you feel?”

“I'm tired.” Bucky sounded exhausted. That usually followed memories of the brainwashing sessions. Memories of torture led to fear and tension. Memories of the wipes led to him wanting something familiar, usually Steve, to cling to. Memories of cryostasis led to him shivering and needing comfortableness. 

Steve was starting to figure out how to offer comfort for each type of incident. He was mostly glad that these days Bucky would accept comfort. When he was first recovering, he would back himself into a secure space and shy away from any touch or kindness Steve offered. 

“Me too, Bucky.” Steve was pretty sure it was still fairly early, but he didn't care. He was mentally drained and he knew Bucky had to be feeling so much worse. “Lets go to bed. I'll put on that new BBC Earth special you got until we fall asleep.”

Steve draped an arm around Bucky's shoulders once they stood, and led the smaller man to his room. They each technically had their own rooms and the apartment was plenty big enough to give them their own space, but they had been so used to living inside each other's pockets before the ice and all it entailed, that they just fell back into it. Steve was glad for that, especially in moments like these. 

He wouldn't have been able to leave Bucky now if his life depended on it. 

They climbed into bed and Steve pulled Bucky against his chest. If he held on a little too tightly, Bucky didn't say anything. If Bucky pressed a little too closely, Steve wasn't complaining. 

In the morning, Bucky would be a little more quiet than usual. Steve would be a little more short tempered. They would stick together throughout the day and slowly get back to their regular selves. 

Afterwards, Steve would ask Bucky if he was okay. Bucky would understand what he meant. He'd tell Steve what he could about what set him off and what he remembered. No details, but enough for Steve to better understand what had happened and maybe help them figure out a better way to handle it (or prevent it) in the future. 

They would be alright, ultimately. But that damn haunted look would still be in Bucky's eyes. 

Sometimes Steve could not believe how vehemently he fucking hated Hydra. 

He hated them almost as much as he loved Bucky. _Almost_.


End file.
